Walking into Darkness
by chisscientist
Summary: A detailed retelling of the Nargothrond Element of the Lay of Leithian from the points of view of Finrod Felagund and Orodreth.
1. A Cascade of Oaths

Disclaimer: I do not own middle earth, the _Silmarillion_, the_ Lay of Leithian_, or the History of Middle Earth. All of these belong to JRR Tolkien. I make no money from this, so there is no point whatever in suing me. I would also like to thank Erunyauve for the name of Orodreth's wife and Philosopher at Large for the idea that Finrod attempted to speak to the Feanorions before the great meeting.

Warnings: character death, imprisonment, implied psychological torture (all courtesy of Sauron), blasphemous comments (also courtesy of Sauron), more imprisonment (courtesy of Celegorm and Curufin), some very unpleasant politics (also courtesy of Curufin and Celegorm), fear and unhappiness (courtesy of Orodreth), and violence (courtesy of various characters). If you have read either the_ Lay of Leithian_ or _Of Beren and Luthien_ in the_ Silmarillion_ you know what to expect.

Chapter one: A Cascade of Oaths

I was settling a routine court case when I saw him standing in the back of the room waiting for his turn. Barahir! Except he could not possibly be Barahir, for he was too young. Our eyes met for a moment, but I turned my mind back to the court case. If I was obviously inattentive, somebody would be certain to get upset. And they did deserve my attention.

Finally, that case was over, and the herald directed the young man forward. He was wild looking and wayworn, his clothes stained and in tatters. He appeared nervous and was carefully avoiding staring around the hall, but there was a fierce determination in him despite that.

"I present Beren son of Barahir to the court," the herald announced. There were a few muffled gasps as the name was announced.

Beren bowed, and held forth the ring of Barahir. "I come asking for help in my father's name."

My oath. I had a feeling it might be that. He certainly looked like he could use some help. "I think perhaps these things would be better spoken in private rather than in open court," I said to the herald. "Is there anything else of extreme importance waiting?"

"No, my lord", he answered.

"In that case, this court is adjourned for today." I turned to Beren: " Follow me", I said, and we left the hall.

We reached one of the small audience chambers and turned in. "Are you hungry?" I asked. He had obviously not had time to change, so perhaps he had not eaten either.

"No actually, thank you. The scouts made sure that I had something to eat on the way in." I had sat down, but Beren was still standing awkwardly by the door.

"Please sit down. We need not stand on ceremony in private." Beren sat down in the chair opposite me.

"So what do you need?" I asked.

"It is rather a long story. Most of it lies in Doriath, but the roots go back much farther, and I don't know how much of it you are familiar with. My father and our people are dead. We stayed and fought until the bitter end. One of our own betrayed us. My father had sent me scouting to try and find out what Gorthaur was up to which is why I am still alive, but when I came back all of them were dead."

I nodded. "I feared they might be dead when the last set of messengers I sent vanished without trace."

"I fought on, but one man cannot halt an army headed by Gorthaur. By the time I left there was no one and nothing to fight for save for hatred of the dark alone, and one cannot eat hate. From the hills I saw Doriath, and thought: why not? Of course, that meant travelling through the mountains of terror, and if I had truly understood what I was letting myself in for I doubt I would have dared. I prefer not to remember that trip, but I made it into Doriath, despite the Ered Gorgoroth and the mazes of Melian."

"After that horror, I arrived in Doriath. The land was very fair after the mountains, and I wandered for a time. Then one day... I saw Luthien dancing and singing in a glade in the forest of Neldoreth. She was the single most beautiful sight I had ever seen, but when I called to her she vanished. I wandered the forest looking for her, and eventually I found her again, and this time she did not run, but asked me who I was, and then challenged me to dance with her. I did so. We fell in love, and spent most of the summer wandering and dancing together. Eventually, Thingol discovered this, and he was absolutely furious."

"He would have had me killed, but Luthien managed to force him to promise not to kill or imprison me. He had many people out searching for me but Luthien went and found me and brought me to him. We spoke about what I should say, but when I got there nothing I could say made any difference to him; he still wanted me dead but because of his oath he couldn't outright order me killed, not when witnesses knew that he had sworn. He accused me of being a spy for Morgoth, a thrall, and baseborn as well. I denied that, wherupon he challenged me to take a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown, and then he would allow me to wed his daughter. Like a fool I told him I'd do exactly that!"

Beren's eyes glittered with remembered outrage as he spoke.

"So now I have to find a way to get the jewel from Morgoth and or die trying. Unfortunately, the latter seems far more likely. I cannot simply forget Luthien, nor she me. It would let be like trying to forget the sun and stars, or forget to breathe. It is not possible! Thus, I come to you for help. I know this is not the most reasonable of requests, but I have nowhere else to turn."

_Of all the things he could have come asking for... this has to be the most impossible. I am not surprised he has nowhere else to turn._ "It is plain that Thingol desires your death." I answered. "Yet there are some things you need to know before considering such a feat. I don't think Thingol has considered the implications of the attempt, let alone if you were to succeed. How much do you know about the Silmarils?"

"They were made by Feanor, and contain light from the two trees. Morgoth stole them, the sons of Feanor have sworn to get them back and this is a major cause of both the Exile and the War. Because they are in Morgoth's crown, they are as unobtainable as any physical object can be."

I nodded. " Aptly put. How much do you know about the Oath of Feanor?"

"It is an unbreakable oath, and all of the sons of Feanor are bound by it. It requires them to regain the Silmarils at any cost." He frowned for a second. "I don't really know the details, but I think it is tangled up with the kinslaying. I have never quite understood that, since the Teleri never had the Silmarils at any point."

"The Teleri were refusing to help the Noldor leave because the Valar were against our going, and Feanor chose to take this as hindrance. He then took by force what they would not give, and when they attempted to stop him, he and his followers killed them. The oath has slept now for several hundred years, but there is always the potential for it to reawaken as long as any of Feanor's sons survive. As for the oath of Feanor, it runs thus in Sindarin:

Be he friend or foe, whether demon of Morgoth, or Elf, or child of Men, or any other living thing in Arda, neither law, nor love, nor league of hell, nor might of the Valar, nor any power of wizardry, shall defend him from the pursuing hate of Feanor's sons, if he take or find a Silmaril and keep it. For the Silmarils we alone claim, until the world ends."

I sighed, remembering that day all too well. "In their madness they called on Manwe, Varda and Eru himself as witness, themselves to be consigned to the outer darkness if they do not keep it."

Beren shook his head. "That is blasphemous as well as unbreakable." He grimaced wryly. "So if Morgoth doesn't kill me, they will, I take it?"

"If they catch you with a Silmaril, yes. Any attempt by anyone other than themselves at regaining a Silmaril is likely to cause major diplomatic problems, possibly war, which we cannot afford. Unfortunately, I have two of them staying with me at the moment, along with many of their people. Curufin and Celegorm." Cursed interlocking oaths! There had to be a way out of this morass somehow.

His face fell, but his eyes hardened. "Does that mean that you are not going to help me?" _Do they all see me as unworthy because I am mortal? I thought at least you might be different, after all my family and people went through!_

"Peace, Beren! I never said that I would not help you, and I will help you. I do not break my sworn word merely because it is inconvenient, but I do have to consider how to help in a way that will actually be of some use to you, and that will not bring disaster on the kingdom I rule. I have a responsibility to them that does not include embroiling them in a war with the Feanorians. But I will find a way to help you, and you will not be sent forth from this place alone and unaided."

I thought for a moment. "Do you think there would be hope of resolving this by diplomacy, if I went and spoke to Elu Thingol? He will sometimes listen to me when he won't listen to most."

"He wouldn't listen to his daughter, it didn't look like he was listening to Melian, and he certainly wasn't listening to me," Beren replied. "He did not listen to anyone long enough to hear them out. I fear your words would fall on deaf ears no matter how wisely spoken."

"Tell me, when you spoke with him, were his eyes glittering oddly and were his fingers clenched on the arms of his throne?"

"Yes," said Beren.

Lovely. That was how he had looked when he expelled Angrod and me from Doriath. I had had the feeling that he would have preferred to have locked us up in the dungeons and was restraining himself by sheer force of will. "I doubt he will listen, then."

Beren shook his head."I wouldn't think so, no."

"Melian was not against you, was she?"

"It was rather hard to tell," Beren answered. "She seemed thoughtful and troubled; it looked like she was trying to restrain him - especially when he threatened to imprison or kill me despite his oath."

_Thingol, what have you done?_ I wondered._ A mortal man wanders into Doriath past all of Melian's enchantments, falls in love with the princess who also falls in love with him, and is assigned an impossible task meant to kill him with the potential to turn the war on its head. Beren also has the marks of doom on him for anyone with the sight to see. There is something very unusual going on here, and it cannot possibly be organized by Morgoth. He cannot affect events in Doriath directly, and Beren should never have been able to get in in the first place. There is something great at work and I didn't know what it is._

"Beren, I will help you but I need to think. Alone."

* * *

That night, I went out and walked beside the river Narog. It was a beautiful night; the air was clear and the stars were shining brilliantly overhead. It was warm, but there was just enough breeze to set the few grasses waving their heads. I sat down beside the river, trailing my fingers in the water as I tried to think what to say. Most of the Valar might have abandoned us, but Ulmo was an exception and his power moved in the Narog. He might listen, and he would certainly know more than I. He might even answer, although that happened but seldom and never when one expected it.

"Lord Ulmo, there is a problem." I said quietly. I told him of the oaths that bound the sons of Feanor, Beren, and myself and this explosive way in which they were interacting. No doubt he already knew most of this, but even the Valar were not completely omniscient, and Ulmo relied on the rivers to bring him news. "The most obvious possibility is that it could be that doom of the Noldor at work again. The oath of Feanor waking is the last thing we need. However, the doom that I sense on him does not bring me in mind of evil. I think that his love for Luthien is in the music for a purpose, and that that purpose is a good one. What purpose it is I have no idea, unless it be that regaining the Silmaril is foreordained and vital."

"Lord Ulmo, if we returned a Silmaril to the Valar voluntarily, do you think that they might be prepared to aid us here in Middle Earth, or it least to remove their curse? Or to come for the sake of the Edain and the Sindar if they will not come on our account? We are locked in a war we cannot win yet dare not lose and you yourself have warned me of the paths ahead."

All was quiet, save for ever-restless waters of the Narog. I paused before continuing: "If there is even a chance that this is the case, then I must help Beren to the end of my strength. The problem is, I don't know that it is, and I fear waking the oath of Feanor. The quest truly does seem impossible. Open force, even of my entire kingdom, will not avail to win the iron crown from Morgoth's head. But I know not all ends, and Beren's doom suggests that there is something beyond my sight in this matter."

"I could create a distraction for Morgoth. The Tol-in-Guarhoth is a deadly threat that we need to eliminate which stands directly in Beren's path to Angband. If we could retake it, that would be a major distraction and would prevent Beren's being captured until he was at least close to Angband. If he tries to go north from here alone he likely to be taken by Gorthaur before he gets anywhere near Angband. I would also imagine you would like to see Sirion freed from Gorthaur's stain."

Over the water, a swan trumpeted. _We don't often get swans here; the water is to rapid for them. Might that be a yes?_ I paused a moment longer, listening, but I heard nothing more. _Probably just a lost bird._

"Beren will also need a disguise. He can't possibly walk into Angband as he is. And he should not go alone. Brave he may be, but we need something that has enough strength to grab the crown from Morgoth's head. Perhaps a small group disguised as orcs, but with every single person having large amounts of magic, ostensibly coming from the Tol-in-Guarhoth bearing tidings. They would have to come early so that they were the first available source of information for Morgoth. The logistics of this part still do not work. Even a group of elves acting together is not going to be able to overpower Morgoth by magic. Physical weapons would be much more useful but I doubt that they would allow us to bear any in his presence, and even if they did as they would be orc weapons which we are not familiar with wielding. I must be in this group, as it is my oath, and I can hardly ask anyone else to help if I am not willing to go myself..."

I fell silent, and continued thinking through most of the night. False dawn had just begun to light the eastern sky when Edrahil arrived.

"I hesitate to disturb you, Ingoldo, but I thought you could use someone to talk to."

"Actually, I could. Thank you. Beren has quite a problem. I"ll tell you about it as we walk back - or would you rather stay out a while longer?"

"I think I'll join you here," Edrahil answered.

Half an hour and a long and involved explanation later, Edrahil shook his head in dismay. "This whole situation is mad!" he said.

"I quite agree," I answered. " Unfortunately, it is the one we have to deal with." I stood and stretched, realizing that I had become stiff, cold, and damp with dew without noticing it. Edrahil smiled but said nothing, and we walked to the caves with dawn lighting the cliffs.


	2. The Great Debate

The next morning I met with Beren again. He seemed relieved to see me, and I had the impression that he had not actually believed I would offer real and concrete help. I felt indignant for a moment at that, but then I remembered Thingol's behaviour and Beren's past. After a life like his, it must be very hard to trust someone he had barely met, especially an elf in a position of power. If I wanted to see anything different from him, I was going to have to demonstrate it myself.

Before the main meeting, I went to Curufin and Celegorm and spoke to them privately. They took the news surprisingly well, and Celegorm declared himself open to the possibility of coming with us to attempt to reclaim the other two Silmarils, although he seemed very worried about giving one to Thingol, even if their oath did not technically forbid them giving a Silmaril away. He insisted that if we were to do this thing, he was coming with me into Angband. Curufin said next to nothing, but then he rarely shows what he thinks or feels. When he does show an emotion, one can't be certain that it is what he's actually feeling. Altogether, it could have gone much worse.

* * *

The main meeting took place in the great hall. Rumors had been flying since Beren's appearance, and I found it filled by a crowd that fell silent as I entered. Yet more people were trickling in. Well, if everyone had turned up as I had asked, that was all to the good. "As many of you no doubt already know, Beren son of Barahir has recently come to Nargothrond seeking aid in the name of his father. I am sure that all of you know the tale of how Barahir saved both me and many others at the fens of Serech. What you may not know of are more recent events in Dorthonion. The people of Beor are effectively extinct save those who fled to Dor-lomin or Brethil, and Beren alone."

There were a few shocked murmurs before I continued. "They fell one by one fighting against Gorthaur, until but twelve were left. One of Barahir's companions was captured and betrayed the others under torture. Beren alone survived. He then fought on, and despite being alone against an entire army headed by an Umaiar, he caused so much trouble that the price on his head is second only to that on the head of Fingon High King of the Noldor. The trouble he caused has been greatly to our advantage here in Nargothrond, because he kept Gorthaur so busy that he could not find the time to press his attack against us here in the south. This has given us time to regroup, and we have done so. But that barrier against Gorthaur and against the north has now been broken, and Beren comes to us for aid. I say he deserves it, for his own actions as well as those of his father and his ancestors."

"As for what he asks of us, it is aid in a quest of his own that he cannot possibly succeed in unaided. For he and Luthien daughter of Thingol have fallen in love. King Thingol was greatly angered by this, but instead of simply saying no he has set Beren a task. In order to win his daughter's hand, he would have Beren bring him a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown. An impossible quest for one man alone, no matter how brave or cunning. He will not get help from elsewhere, so any help offered will have to come from us. And we can help."

There was a sudden hissing sound from somewhere over by the near left pillar: the sound of a sword being drawn. Silence fell, and into it Celegorm spoke, holding his naked sword up above his head, where it gleamed coldly in the light of the lanterns. He cried: "Be he friend or foe, whether demon of Morgoth, or Elf, or child of Men, or any other living thing in Arda, neither law, nor love, nor league of hell, nor might of the Valar, nor any power of wizardry, shall defend him from the pursuing hate of Feanor's sons, if he take or find a Silmaril and keep it. For the Silmarils we alone claim, until the world ends1)." His face was red, but his eyes glittered and he held himself proudly, as if he were king. Curufin said nothing, but his eyes also gleamed and his mouth was hidden behind his hand.

_What are they doing?_ I wondered._ I thought that he had come to agree with me, and to take the opportunity to reclaim their own!_

"... Do you think that our oath means nought? Thus have we sworn, and thus we will do or die! Think, people! Were a Silmaril to come into any hands but ours, there would be war and it would not be war with Morgoth. Do you want another Alqualonde?"

"But that assumes that the quest can actually be achieved," Curufin stepped smoothly into the shocked silence left by Celegorm's assertions. "I do not think it can. No matter how much help you give this mortal, he will never be able to take the very crown from Morgoth's head. Fingolfin himself was killed fighting Morgoth, and nobody else has even managed to get a sight of him without being taken captive. It is an impossible quest, and there is no reason whatever for you to get killed on it. What care we if the mortal has fallen in love with Thingol's daughter? I wouldn't let my daughter marry a mortal. If I had a daughter, which I don't."

Some nervous laughter greeted his comment.

_The Feanorians have run away with them. If I am to regain control of this meeting, I must do so now! This has all happened before. _Memories of that night in the darkened city of Tirion lit by torches, listening to Feanor speak, opened before my eyes. I shook my head, trying to clear my sight and my mind._ I must stay in the present!_ But I could feel the darkness growing, despite the clear blue light of the lanterns, and no one heard my next words over the crowd.

"Let the King speak!" someone cried.

It took a few moments, but the hall quieted enough for me to be heard. "I have no intention of attempting to force open the way to Angband with an army from Nargothrond. I agree it wouldn't work, and I am no more fond of losing lives chasing after impossible oaths than they are, as I am certain those of you who were in Tirion remember."

A few people snickered at that reminder, but most remained deadly serious. "However, between here and Angband lies what used to be Minas Tirith. It poses a deadly hazard to both Beren and to us here in Nargothrond. We should retake it. It can be done - we are not demoralized as we were at the time when it fell. It should be done, for by its very existence it keeps the elvish kingdoms from communicating easily, and from offering aid to one another when attacked. If it stands, it increases the likelihood that each Kingdom will fall to Morgoth without any other being able to aid them. No kingdom can stand against the might of Morgoth alone. By helping Beren, we help ourselves."

Celegorm glared at me, and demanded: "Why should we help this man fulfill an impossible quest to take an object that is not his to give it to someone to whom it does not belong?"

Curufin continued: "Why indeed? You have a fine and a beautiful city here that should be kept in strength, not endangered. Do you value your own lives as worthless? I do not, even if some others here might. And think what happens if someone is captured, and breaks! All the secrecy and hiding of this city and the ways of the realm could be for nought. It only takes one."

"Yes, it only takes one," I answered, "but that is a risk we live with always, and so far we have managed to keep our honour intact, and have not succumbed to fear. For while I established Nargothrond to be a refuge in times of trouble, of what use is a refuge when the people offer help to none but themselves? I did not found Nargothrond to sit in bliss while other people suffer, nor to turn away and hide while the Kingdoms of our people crumble!"

Curufin didn't answer me directly. "Think of this beautiful city," he gestured at the hall around him, "lying in ruins. Your children dead, your wives and yourselves thralls in Morgoth's halls. Is this what you want? For it will surely be, if you follow this path. There is no hope in it, none at all. And it could all be prevented so easily..." he shook his head in disbelief. "None here doubts your courage, but is it wise to so provoke Morgoth? Stealing the crown off his head: even the attempt at it is suicidal!"

"Destroying or retaking Minas Tirith is not suicidal; it is our best path to our own survival!" I retorted.

Curufin merely continued: "But you are not mad. You are sane and wise, and surely you will not be party to your own deaths. Given how well hidden this land is, you might be able to escape his notice altogether. My cousin's secrecy policy is wise, but it does not go far enough. How do you know that any stranger has not been turned in captivity? You cannot. So don't let them in, nor even turn them back at the borders. Make them disappear, and with them, this land will disappear from Morgoth's gaze. If he cannot see you, you will live. Defy him, and you will die."

_Playing on their fears to make my people become less than they are, when he is but a guest I took in out of pity and duty to kin? How dare he!_

"So I take it that you would have us forget oaths and leagues of friendship, and the laws given us by the Valar - in order that we might have a few years free from Morgoth while he destroys the rest of our people?" I turned away from Curufin to look at the others in the crowd. "For that is all they are suggesting - Morgoth will never be content while any of our realms stand and we cannot hide forever. If we are the last left, he will bend all his power to destroy us, and we shall be destroyed. Where will you go to hide when all realms have fallen because you would not fight?"

"But why should you go willfully into peril on a quest that will help only one man?" Curufin asked, spreading his hands as if the notion were completely incomprehensible. "He isn't even the same man who rescued your King."

" It seems completely rediculous to me," answered Celegorm. "You swore no oath."

"There is more at stake than you see..." I began, intending to explain about Beren's visibly high doom, and the possibilities that might yet be if we dared to help. I never got the chance to try.

"So now you claim special knowledge?" Celegorm demanded. "I might have known. You lean on the Valar like a crutch, Finrod! and they will never even hear you here in our exile. We are utterly alone, and your reliance will betray you. When have they ever cared for anyone but themselves?"

I could feel the crowd's shock, but one voice rose above the rest. "Yea, and who made you a Vala to command us? 1)" It was Guilin. My heart turned to ice within me. If he was against me, I had lost utterly. I turned to Orodreth, but he was just standing there, face ashen pale, then to Thorontir, who would not look at me. There would be no help. Yet for all the reasons I had thought of earlier, the quest must go on, and it must not fail. And if all I had to give was myself, then I would give that. I picked the crown off my head and threw it to the floor. It rang loudly, and the sound was followed by utter silence. With difficulty, I spoke:

"Your oaths of faith to me you may break, but I must hold my bond. Yet if there be any on whom the shadow of our curse has not yet fallen, I should find at least a few to follow me, and should not go hence as a beggar that is thrust from the gates!1)"

Celegorm looked delighted, Curufin unreadable. He must have planned all this beforehand. Why did they do this? Power. They wanted the throne. And the darkness in the halls was complete, though the lanterns gleamed as bright as ever. Curufin and Celegorm held their hearts in thrall, to what end I knew not, save that it would be to ruin.

"He's gone mad," someone muttered. "He can't possibly storm Minas Tirith by himself."

"I do not intend to try," I said, replying to the unseen person. "However, I can and will go with Beren on his quest and help him as best I can."

"But you are the King, you need to stay here and lead us," said lord Guilin, looking extremely upset.

"I cannot lead people who will not be led, nor can I lead by evading my responsibilities and breaking oaths to those whom I lead - or have you forgotten that Beren is one of my people also?"

Edrahil stepped forward, and I looked at him gratefully. At least the one person who really understood why I was doing this was with me. I might be foresaken, but I was not mad._ I must hold to that, whatever the rest think. _Edrahil paused and looked around him. "What, nobody else? Surely someone other than me has a shard of honour left! I know that my life and the King's were not the only ones saved by Barahir and his men." Four others came forward, then another and another, until ten people stood beside me. No one else came. Now what? I made a move as if to walk out of the hall.

Edrahil stepped to my side again, and began to speak, urgently. "They may return from their madness in time, but you cannot go like this. You remain my king and theirs, whatever betide 1). Leave a steward!" He was right. _Orodreth. The crown is his by rights if I am not available. I just hope he can handle it; he is not well in his mind and those Feanorians are deadly worms._

"Give the crown to Orodreth," I answered. "He will rule until I return." Not that I really expected to return, but when hope dies all is lost. Edrahil picked up the crown and handed it to Orodreth, who received it without a word.

I and my companions walked out of the hall.

1) direct quote from the _Silmarillion_


	3. I Do Not Understand

Orodreth's Tale

_This can't be happening_, I thought, still clutching Finrod's crown in my hand. _Finrod can't have been deposed by the Feanorians, walked out, and dumped the rule of Nargothrond in my lap! I can't do this! I should do something, but what? And now he's walked out of the hall, and we're all standing stunned staring after him. _"I declare this meeting adjourned," I announced, and walked out of the hall. _Maybe I can talk sense into him; they can't have left yet, I know they haven't made preparations. Just what is he planning to do anyway?_

I found him, later, in his quarters, collecting materials needed for the trip. There were maps piled on the bed, and armour, food... I stopped and stood in the doorway, not knowing what to say. He continued packing. Several packages of lembas slid off and fell to the floor. I stepped forward, bent down, picked them up and passed them to him. He smiled sadly. "Thank you," he said.

"Uncle, I do not understand. Why are you doing this? There were easier ways to keep your oath."

"The letter yes, but not the spirit. And there are great events moving..." he put the lembas aside and looked me in the eye. "I don't understand entirely what is going on, but someone is guiding these events and it is not Morgoth. Suffice it to say that this quest and Beren are important, much more important than they seem." He passed a hand over his eyes. "I wish I could see more clearly."

"More important than your life?"

"Probably."

I said nothing, and he returned to packing. After a few minutes more, he spoke. "Beware of Celegorm and Curufin. They want the throne. I am sorry to leave you like this, but I must leave, and the quicker the better, before the rumours begin." He started to pick up a map, then put it down again. "Don't let them refight Alqualonde here in our halls."

"I don't know if I would be able to stop them."

"Don't give them a reason to fight unless you come across something worse than a kinslaying. There are many people who will still follow you, especially as the days lengthen and tempers cool. Remember Finarfin and Feanor in the days after the speech in Tirion." He pursed his lips, then spoke again. "Most of the people here are either Sindar or are among the less warlike of the Noldor. Those who followed me tended to be those who were tired of reckless acts in search of revenge or glory. It is perhaps not so surprising that they would not follow me into danger when confronted with those who played on their fears. Unfortunately, that is not true of Celegorm and Curufin's followers."

"I don't understand this!" I said. "You took them in when they were refugees, and this is how they repay us? I called them friends; I trusted them! Are you certain they really want the throne? Couldn't they just be concerned that this is madness - in all honesty I can't say I understand why you are doing this myself. I trust you, but why, uncle? Couldn't you at least try to go to them and work something out? It might yet work."

Finrod put his packages aside, and sat down on the bed. "In answer to your second question: I did that before I ever held the meeting, and suggested that they come and we retrieve the entire crown and they keep the other two Silmarils. Neither declared themselves against it, and Celegorm seemed quite interested. Insisted that if we were going to try, he wanted to be part of it. Curufin said little on either side, but looking back I suspect he convinced Celegorm to change his mind after I left, and what we are dealing with is his idea. I felt little duplicity from Celegorm, and you know how unreadable Curufin is."

"You spoke to them beforehand?" I felt sick. This wasn't just ingratitude and overenthusiastic oath-following, this was betrayal and treason. Premeditated treason at that. "Why did you not mention that in the meeting?"

He nodded. " I wasn't about to try springing something directly involving their oath on them. They would have been right to be angry with me if I had done that. In retrospect of course, it might have worked better. On the other hand, we might have ended up with another kinslaying. As to why I didn't mention it during the meeting... they would likely have denied it. All it would have done is drive the divisions present deeper as each chose to believe those they wished to believe. Or maybe I just didn't think of it in time." He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I hate overwrought crowds."

"Headache?" I asked.

"Yes."

"I have one too," I answered, only then realizing. _Emotional crowds and demagogues, the empath's nightmare..._

I got up and looked out the door to the anteroom where Elris was writing something. "Elris, could you possibly brew a pot of that headache tea?"

"Already done, sir. I take it he needs some more?"

"Both of us, actually." Elris poured a couple of cups, and handed them to me. I took them in, and handed one to Finrod before seating myself in the armchair. We both drank. My headache dwindled as the tea took effect.

After a couple of minutes I asked " Why didn't you give him maps and supplies and reams of useful advice? You have forseen this quest will kill you, haven't you?"

"This is that quest, yes, although I don't know for certain that it will kill me. I will go into darkness, but that is an excellent description of Angband whether we come out again or not. As to why I do not do the minimum and let him go: this is more important than it seems. Beren has a high doom, oh, it is plain to see if you actually bother to look," he said, scowling. "Unfortunately, all people seem to be doing is seeing a rather wild mortal with shaggy hair and looking no further. Fate and the music are involved in this quest somehow, and it is not Morgoth orchestrating events - he cannot manipulate events in Doriath. For this reason, I suspect we will actually take a Silmaril, or that something else very significant will happen."

"Apart from that... we really do owe him more than token assistance. He, Barahir and the rest have given and given and held nothing back, and while we have taught them many things we have to give back on the same order as they give to us or the humans are going to lose faith in the Eldar. You cannot hold an alliance together under those conditions."

"I can see why you choose to go, given what happened when you tried to enlist the people's aid." I said slowly. "I wish it were otherwise, and I don't truly agree that something based on pure _estel _is worth losing our King over. I do not want to rule Nargothrond - I would not be a good ruler, especially not in times like these. Don't get yourself killed challenging certain death for no good reason, like Fingolfin."

He gazed at me without speaking, but I could tell that he would never change his mind. I sighed, and said: "Is there anything I can do to help before you go? I want you back alive after all this, if there is any hope at all."

"The greatest gift you can give me right now is knowing that I have not left a kinslaying behind me. Keep Nargothrond safe, and do not allow Celegorm and Curufin to drag the people down into darkness. I'll leave you a few contingency plans before I go; it is not as if we can leave tonight anyway. There's too much to be organized for that. We need to leave soon though, and as quietly as possible. Try to keep rumours from spreading beyond the caves until well after we leave. Apart from that... have you seen the old maps of Angband the escaped thralls made? I know they are out of date and inaccurate at best, but they are what we have. Do you know where they are?"

I shook my head. "I do not, but I could probably find out. Is there anything else you need that I could give?"

"Not really... but don't get killed yourself either. And don't trust the Feanorions!"

"After what they've done? I don't, and I doubt I ever will again." I reached out and embraced him. "I'll miss you. May the Valar defend you, and come back if you possibly can."

"If I can, I will."

I left then, and walked down the hallway, past Beren and Edrahil who were coming in the opposite direction. I suppose some of my feelings must have shown in my face, for Beren gave me a puzzled look as I walked past. I suddenly wondered if it were possible that he did not know what had happened yet. If not, he soon would. I suppose I should not hate him, what happened is not truly his fault, nor did he ever intend this, but still... it was hard to avoid wishing him in Angband's deepest hole, at least until I realized that if he were, my uncle would probably be there also. I needed to let go of my anger, or my mind would be clouded by it and I would be of no use to anyone. Maps. I could at least go and find those maps Finrod wanted.

A/N: I am using Tolkein's final interpretation of Orodreth, in which he was the son of Angrod, one of Finrod's younger brothers. In this version, he has two children: Finduilas, sometimes called Faelivrin, and Gil-Galad who he can't seem to decide on a father name for. His wife is not named, but I have called her Meril because that is the name of Gil-Galad's mother the sole time that she is mentioned - although this was an early version in which she was married to Finrod, as Amarie had not yet appeared. It was erunyuave who thought the idea of using Meril's name and persona for Orodreth's wife up, so credit where credit is due.

Orodreth's character undergoes multiple changes in the various stages of Tolkein's legendarium. I advise anyone interested in the details to read the History of Middle Earth books. They are utterly fascinating to those who enjoy picky details, but probably maddening to anyone else.


	4. A Quest Impossible

Chapter Four: A Quest Impossible

We left at sunset on the next day. Saying farewell to Orodreth, Finduilas, Ereinion, Meril and to the friends that had become close as family over the years was hard. Guilin in particular would not look me in the eye, while Gwindor looked torn and miserable. What was worse was that Celegorm and Curufin came to see me off, and wished me well with their tongues while their hearts wished the very opposite, and I had to pretend for the sake of peace that I did not know. Finally, we escaped the farewells and walked off into the hills, heading North.

We traveled quietly and did not sing or speak much; there seemed little to take joy in. When we spoke it was often planning, for such things as could be planned. Little eventful happened in all the long travelling through the realm, apart from a problem at the fords of the Narog, which were somewhat deeper than usual from the first rains at the beginning of autumn. Earion lost his footing and fell in. Edrahil fished him out quickly enough, but except for the lembas, the food in his pack was ruined.

We stopped once at an outpost near the borders to take on more supplies, but otherwise we avoided settlements. The fewer who saw us and knew or wondered who we were, the better. At that one guard post though, things got interesting.

We were challenged correctly as we walked up to the gate, and I gave the answer. They let us in, and asked who we were, and I introduced us all by our mother-names and gave them the request-for-assistance forms I had drawn up back in Nargothrond. Everything went smoothly until the garrison captain saw Edrahil. He blinked, "Lord Edrahil?" he asked incredulously. "What are you doing here? We were only audited last year, and I know everything was clean." He turned to study the rest of us, and promptly spotted me. "King Finrod?! Could someone please explain what is going on?"

"We are incognito. For the moment, I am Ingold, and our mutual friend here is Arellon. You have not seen anyone you recognise, and you see no reason to mention this particular group of travellers to anyone."

He shook his head. "If you say so, Ingold." He was obviously curious, but wasn't about to ask uninvited, or tell anyone else. Good. I would have to do something about our appearance before entering the more dangerous areas - we were obviously too recogniseable. At times like these having Vanyar colouring is distinctly dangerous.

Shortly thereafter, we left the guard post and headed beyond it into the lands that had once been under my rule but were no longer. At this point, I stopped them. "While we cannot shift into orc form before meeting any orcs, we are too obvious as we are, and I do not want Beren, Edrahil or myself to be recognised if we are captured."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Beren agreed. "How do you intend to do this?"

"Illusion. Earion, I would like you to help me with this. What I want to do is create something that will not go down if one of us is incapacitated, that will change our appearances enough so that we will not be recognized, and that is inconspicuous."

"Certainly. What changes do you want to make? Just facial features?"

"Those, hair color in my case, and race in Beren's. A group of twelve elves will cause less questions than eleven elves and one human."

Earion frowned. "Will cause... have you forseen that we will be taken captive?"

"It is certainly a possibility, and one I would like to reduce. There is also the possibility that we could be taken prisoner but be deemed unimportant so that we are illguarded, achieve the quest and escape. If Beren or I is recognised that will not happen."

Earion and I argued for a while over the mechanics, and then we began. Softly we sang, first myself and then both of us in fifths, eyes closed, weaving the illusion into being with our minds and voices. It might not have taken long in real time, but while we sang time ceased to matter to us. I opened my eyes as I sang the final chord. Nobody was recognizable as anyone I knew, and my hair was now black. Which one was Beren?

The elf and the end of the row shook his head and looked down at his hands with an expression of astonishment. "Well, I never pictured myself as an elf, but you seem to have managed to quite handily," he said, then looked somewhat startled as his voice had shifted in tone and pitch.

"Ah, we are not all that different," I said. " Trying to make elves look like orcs, now that is a challenge."

"Considerably harder will be getting us to act like orcs", Edrahil added. " I believe you have observed the orcs more closely than we have, Beren, so we're going to be relying on your advice."

"I've certainly seen enough of them to know how they act." said Beren. "We're going to have to practice once we are in orc form. How do you plan to do that, by the way? More illusions?"

"Yes, but with something as different as an orc I need to have actual orcs," I explained. "The more we can do that is actually real and not illusion, the better it will hold up to inspection by the enemy and the easier it will be to hold what is illusion. We are going to have to find some orcs and take their clothes for disguise."

"That makes sense," said Beren. "I take it that elvish magic works according to rules like the physical world? This is fascinating to watch and nobody ever explains what they are doing."

"Yes, it has rules. If we get out of this, I'll explain it in as much detail as your heart can desire and possibly more."

"I'd like that," said Beren, and smiled. "Luthien never did explain quite how she causes the flowers to spring to life at her touch."

"You'd do better asking her that. I'm not particularly good with plants and I'm not sure how she does it."

"I will do that then, someday."

The land became much wilder as we continued north. There was still signs of settlement, but they were almost all abandoned. Half-charred empty villages, farmhouses where the fields had gone wild and were full of weeds. The uncultivated areas were in better shape, but even here the signs of the occupation were visible in the form of trees cut and left to rot and random burned areas. Orcs. What those foul things had done to this beautiful area... I felt sick. And there would be far worse to come.

Three days later, we found a crew of orcs suitable for our purposes. It was somewhat larger than ideal, being more than twice as large as our group at thirty orcs to twelve people. Still, with the advantage of surprise it should do. We trailed them until they made camp a couple of hours before dawn. They had chosen a dark dell, and there lit fires, over which they began to cook a meal. We spread out, each one of us behind a separate tree, bent our bows and drew the strings. The orcs did not hear us.

_"Utulie'n aure_!" I cried, and we shot. I dropped my bow and drew my sword to attack the nearest orc. It screeched, and threw the pointed stick it had been cooking some meat on at me before trying to draw its weapon. It was too slow and I ran it through, then turned to meet the sword of the orc that had come up behind me. Beren stabbed that orc in the back, before chasing down the one with the cooking pot. Within three minutes, the orcs were dead and the fight was over. None had escaped.

Now began the gruesome part: picking through the bodies and stripping them of their clothing and their gear. Nothing fit, of course, and everything stank. Well, at least we'd smell like orcs. We re-assembled in our foul, ill-fitting, clothing with hanks of orc hair spread over our own. Now that we were as much like orcs as we could be without magic, we were ready for the addition of the illusions. This would be tricky, but it least I wouldn't be trying to coordinate my song with that of another. Working alone was so much simpler than group magic. I fixed the image in my mind of what I wanted, and began to sing of ugliness: of sharp fangs, of bowed legs, of yellow eyes thet see in the dark but fear the sunlight, of black blood, of crooked shape and scowling mien, of harsh voices that never sing in tune. As I did this, I could hear my own voice harshen and I knew that the change was complete. I sang the spell closed, and opened my eyes.

We were orcs.


	5. Those Left Behind

The worst part of the whole mess was trying to explain it to Finduilas and Ereinion. Ereinion simply didn't understand what was going on, so I ended up telling him only that uncle Finrod had gone away for a while with his human friend Beren. That seemed to satisfy him, although I think that he was left wondering why we were upset. Finduilas, on the other hand, understood enough to be scared and was completely by bewildered by Celegorm and Curufin's part in the affair.

"Father, I do not understand their behavior," said Finduilas, leaning against the arched doorway leading into my office. I was sitting at my desk, dealing with a report, but it was quite clear she wasn't going to go away until she had an answer. I put my pen down and met her eyes. She continued: You were telling me that they want the throne. Why? It looks like a great amount of hard work to me, and it will surely interfere with Celegorm's beloved hunting."

"Some people like the feel of power, Finduilas. I don't understand it either: I would far rather read a book than be pestered by people wanting me to fix their problems for them. Celegorm and Curufin had power before, but they lost it when their realms fell in the Dagor Bragollach. Apparently they want it back so badly that they are willing to do evil to get it. I want you to stay away from them, and make sure that Ereinion doesn't go near them either."

She looked confused, and asked "Surely they wouldn't do anything to hurt Ereinion - he's hardly more than a baby and can't possibly be a threat to them. I can't see how I'd be a threat to them either, since I've never paid much attention to politics and am not given to messing with weapons. It is not as if I were aunt Nerwen." She scuffed the floor with a foot. "I wish she were here."

"So do I. You may be right about them not being a threat to you or Ereinion, but I'm not risking it."

She made a gesture of surrender, and said "If you wish it, I will avoid them. I don't want to see them anyway so it is no great hardship. Father, you are currently the regent. If you fear they will do evil, why don't you exile them?"

"In the current situation, with all of their folk and most of our folk listening far more to them than to me such an act is impossible. They would take over. Finrod told me not to start a kinslaying, and this would not only start a war, it would start one our family would lose badly. I will not be responsible for that."

"So we have no choice but to watch them swagger about like they rule here, and attempt to keep out of their way for fear they might hurt us?!"

"In time the people will turn back to us, we just need to wait until things calm down and people notice how arrogant and selfish they are. Finrod was an excellent king, and those two are not."

"Was an excellent king? Have you no hope for him then?"

I looked away. "My heart hopes, yes, but my mind... There never was much hope, Finduilas."

She stared at me in shock, then whirled and ran out of the room. A few seconds later, I heard a door slam. I put my head in my hands. I should finish dealing with the paperwork, I should go and listen to the report of the master of scouts - there were endless things I should do, but right now I just didn't care.

* * *

I did the paperwork, and I spoke to the master of scouts and did the various other things that were necessary. Somebody had to, and I wasn't about to gift Nargothrond to Curufin and Celegorm simply because I was unhappy. The days passed, one after another, the next similar to the last and there was still no word of Finrod or Beren. Things settled into a routine, and we all pretended nothing was wrong. The lords of Nargothrond and I sat in council and discussed the progress of the extension of the sewer system.

Then one day Finduilas came to me holding a bunch of roses and looking extremely worried. "Father, you remember you warned me to stay away from Curufin and Celegorm..."

"Yes?"

"Celegorm gave me these. He was being excessively charming, and there was no way for me to refuse them without giving offense. I don't like it. He made some comments about healing the breach between our families, and told me I was beautiful. He has never paid much attention to me before, and he didn't actually apologize for anything he'd done."

Oh no. Just what I was afraid of. "He thinks to gain power in Nargothrond by marrying you. Politically it is a very intelligent move for him to make and I am surprised it's taken them this long to think of it. Don't let him get you alone, and the next time he tries something like this make sure it's in public and refuse it publicly and loudly. Make it very clear you are not interested."

"He intends to what!" Her eyes narrowed. "This is what you are afraid of earlier that you didn't want to mention. I see. I don't honestly see how this can help him since I would not marry him were he the last ellon in middle earth, and I am too young to marry anyway. Not to mention being in love with Gwindor - as half of the city must know by now."

"I did not say that it would work; I said that this is what he's trying to do. And you are close enough to being of age that it might work if you allowed it. This is why you must make it clear in public that you aren't interested."

"I will do that. How he could even think that I would be interested I do not know, but anyway..." She looked down at the roses in her hands. "What do I do with these?"

"Compost," I answered. "The great gardens always need more compost."

Finduilas grinned suddenly. "I shall do so with relish," she said, and walked off to accomplish the deed.

My heart suddenly lighter, I returned to my piles of paper.

* * *

I was in the middle of a discussion with Guilin, Thorontir and Elris on expected tithes from the southern villages when I discovered that Finduilas had put my advice into practice. There was a commotion at the door, after which a rather red faced guard allowed a citizen into the room. "Prince Orodreth, Prince Celegorm and Gwindor have drawn their swords and are yelling at each other in the middle of the great plaza! Your daughter..."

I did not wait for him to finish, but left my seat and ran out the door, pushing past the guard. _Finduilas, what have you done?_ Immediately behind me, Guilin followed at a run. As we came close to the great plaza, I could hear Celegorm bellowing.

"You insolent young pup! I have been fighting since before you were born. Put your sword away before you get yourself killed." I heard the clash of metal on metal.

"Then keep your hands off Finduilas!" Gwindor answered.

I entered the plaza. "Stop!" I shouted. " Just what do you think you're doing, both of you?" I came to a halt, panting. At least they had not killed each other yet. "Put your weapons back in their sheaths."

The combatants glanced over at me. Gwindor looked relieved, lowered his sword and put it back in its sheath. Celegorm raised his eyebrows and gave me a mocking smile before he returned his weapon to its sheath.

"Explain this, please." I asked.

"Certainly," Celegorm replied. " I was having a perfectly civil conversation with your daughter here when this young puppy interrupted us, threatened me and then drew his weapon. I know he's the son of one of your most powerful lords, but surely you can keep a better leash on him if he cannot control his own temper!"

"Gwindor?" I asked. Behind me, I could hear Guilin arriving.

"He was talking to Finduilas," Gwindor answered, "but he was being rude and she took offense. When she tried to walk away, he grabbed her arm and wouldn't let go. I told him to let go, he didn't, and I drew my sword."

"You fool," hissed Guilin. "You could've been killed!"

I turned around, looking for Finduilas. She was standing back a short way from the altercation with her face very pale. "Is that what happened?" I asked her.

She gulped, but answered readily enough. "Yes. Celegorm came up to me and started talking. I didn't want to talk to him so I asked to leave me alone. He got offended, and demanded to know why I was angry with him. I told him I didn't appreciate his and Curufin's treatment of Finrod and the rest of my family. He said that he had been trying to make amends but didn't see that Finrod's madness was any of his responsibility. I told him if he wanted my forgiveness he needed to start by apologizing. He then said that he had nothing to apologize for, which is when I tried to leave. He then grabbed me by the arm and started telling me that my loyalty was commendable but that there was no need to follow in my family's folly and surely things could be worked out, I told him to let me go, he didn't and that was when Gwindor intervened."

I turned back to Celegorm. "Is this your perfectly civil conversation with Finduilas?"

"I barely touched her arm to try to stop her from storming off and making a scene in public after I said that I thought King Finrod's behavior was unwise. I certainly never intended her any insult, as I have the utmost respect for Finduilas. Gwindor's reaction was completely excessive, and I demand that you restrain him if he cannot restrain himself. I'll not be responsible for my actions if he attacks me again."

"I shall see to it that that my son does not bother you further, my lord," Guilin said. "He is a good lad, but very fond of Finduilas and sometimes somewhat rash. It shall not happen again."

"Thank you, lord Guilin. I appreciate that," Celegorm answered.

_Wait a moment, that is my responsibility!_ But Guilin had already taken Gwindor by the arm and was whispering something frantically in his ear as they left. Celegorm turned back to me and bowed politely before leaving without another word. I should have called back to him and told him that I didn't appreciate his part in causing this situation, but it was so much easier to just let him go. I never won arguments with him anyway so what was the point of trying? I turned to Finduilas. "I think we'd both better go home." She nodded silently and followed me as I walked out of the court.

* * *

After that, I saw to it that Finduilas never left the house alone, and I began to think of sending both her and Ereinion to somewhere safer, perhaps to Cirdan at Eglarest or Brithombar. Normally I'd think first of Doriath, but with King Thingol's involvement that seemed a poor idea. As yet I made no move, because such an act might look like capitulation to the Feanorions. They proceeded to act as they saw fit, having decided, I suppose, that I was too weak to offer any resistance.

Meril insisted the situation could be salvaged, and tried to make me confront them. I did try, I really did. In the council, we had a debate on the new secrecy laws. They were going too far, and if Finrod ever did come back, he was going to be furious. I pointed this out, but Celegorm merely shrugged and suggested that debate should be limited to those actually present and alive. I replied that Finrod was still the king whether present or not and surely his known views should be taken into account. Celegorm looked at me and said "It is hard to argue was someone who isn't present. If your uncle wishes to dispute our decision, he can do so when he returns. After all, he isn't a Vala to command us!" He smiled at Guilin, who looked away and wouldn't meet either his eyes or mine.

"I'm sorry, Prince Orodreth," Arnil said, "but we really do need to get the new laws in place. This cannot wait until your uncle returns when we don't even know if he will return. We can have the debate over when he comes back." The debate continued, and I watched in silence, not trusting myself to speak. I dared not break down in public. I knew they already called me coward behind my back, and if I broke down like I did after tol Sirion fell...

I mouthed the appropriate formalities as the meeting ended, and walked home hardly seeing the way in front of me. Finduilas opened the door, and I entered and locked it, leaning on the closed door for support. "Father, what's wrong?" she asked.

I shook my head, wishing she did not have to see me in this state again.

"Why don't you sit down," she said, guiding me to a chair, before running down the hall looking for Meril. "Mom, Farther's in tears again!"

Meril came and sent Finduilas out of the room. Eventually I calmed down enough to explain what had happened. We agreed that the situation had only been made worse, and that it was time to send Finduilas and Ereinion to the Havens. I could not let my children pay the price for my pride, or for my weakness.

A/N: Thank you for the suggestions; they have been most helpful. I hope the language in this chapter flows somewhat better now.


	6. And in the Darkness Bind Them

We continued north, encountering true orcs multiple times on the journey. Fortunately, my illusions and Beren's instructions on acting kept us safe. Our spirits rose, including mine as I began to believe I might actually get out of this alive. All went well until we had traveled well into the pass of Sirion and had actually passed the tol-in-Guarhoth.

Earion roused me. "Dungalef, I think our werewolf friends are about to come visit."

Lovely, I thought, and looked around. I couldn't see any wolves although I could hear snuffling noises in the darkness which suggested more than one was out there. I hoped my illusion was good enough to fool a werewolf's nose. Finally, a pair of eyes gleamed out of the darkness and a wolf came forward into the light of the dying fire. "You will follow me," it announced.

"Why, and on whose orders? I asked. "We have an urgent errand, and Boldog will be angered if you delay us with this foolishness."

"On the orders of Gorthaur lord of werewolves. Why, you'll find out when he meets you. You are to come immediately. Boldog can wait and if he howls that's not my affair." I looked around, and saw that at least twenty other wolves had come into the light. We dared not fight, for the act of fighting would give away what we were and we would have no hope of entering Angband secretly.

"If Lord Gorthaur wants us, fine. He can explain it to Boldog." The others had woken now, and were staring around unspeaking. "It looks like we have a side trip," I told them. "Lord Gorthaur wants to talk to us, so we're heading for the tol-in-Guarhoth."

"Just what we needed," Beren grumbled. "Boldog will be right mad when we finally get to him. Can't be helped." We got to our feet and packed up their orcish equipment. Fortunately, by this point we were very used to it and to our orcish forms. The disguise had better be good enough, because facing Gorthaur the cruel was about as harsh a test as it could possibly get. If it passed his inspection we were probably fine until we actually faced Morgoth. It looked like I was about to see what they had done to Minas Tirith after all. Not that I really wanted to; I doubted it would be an improvement over when I ruled there.

We walked towards tol Sirion with the wolves as escort around us. Shortly after the sun rose we came within sight of the tower itself. Outwardly it looked little different. It still stood tall and fair in the center of the isle. The isle itself was darkened, and it seemed to my inner sight that a brooding darkness lay on the land, centered on the tower and on the rock immediately underneath.

It took us until late afternoon to reach the valley bottom and the bridge. By this point it was all too obvious that the tower was in evil hands. Its white walls were stained with what looked like blood, and the entire place reeked of evil.

We crossed the bridge. The waters of Sirion seemed to shy away from the stones, as it would if they were oily, yet more so than that. How strange. We started up the path towards the tower, trying not to look at each other or betray how fearful we were. The feeling of doom and despair pressed down upon us and it was difficult to separate myself from my friends enough to not betray what we were through my own horror. As for the emotions I could feel coming from within the tower...

We walked on and came to the tower itself. Orcs flung the gates wide, and we entered. The gates closed behind us with a hollow thud, leaving us in the dim light of torches. I looked up: the orcs had befouled and then half-destroyed the carvings that I had made. _Curse them! But that is ever the way of orcs - to befoul and destroy what whatever is fair. No reason to curse them; they are cursed already. Poor things. _I walked the rest of the way looking at the ground.

We did not have to wait at all to see the lord Gorthaur. A very bad sign, that. Our weapons were taken from us, and we entered the great hall. Gorthaur was sitting on the throne at the opposite end of the hall. The throne was a monstrous thing of stone which appeared to have been darkened by blood. That was certainly new. Gorthaur himself was a tall figure in armour so black that all light falling upon it was devoured, and so large he was in proportion with the throne. In inner sight, he was the center for the darkness that sickened the island. There was an odd tugging effect, as if he sucked all warmth and hope out of the room, replacing them with cold and despair.

"So, the runagate orcs are here at last." He turned to our wolvish escort, "You may go," he said. The wolf bowed his nose to the ground and tucked his tail between his legs before leaving us alone with Gorthaur.

Gorthaur gazed at us intently." Why did you not report in?"

"We have an urgent errand to Boldog, my lord, and we feared being late. We are sorry to have disturbed you."

"So you should be. I have ordered that all who come and go through my territory must report in and you ought to have been informed of this by Boldog. Tell me your errand."

"We have been scouting the borders of Nargothrond, and watching any sign of communications between there and Doriath."

"What have you learned?"

"They don't talk much, my lord." I answered.

"What have you seen? You must have seen something while you were on the borders."

"We met a raiding party and slew them, all thirty."

"Most impressive, for twelve orcs facing Eldar - or were there more of you to start with? What were they raiding? Who are your captains? - you have not said."

"I am Dungalef, and this is Nereb." I said, gesturing to myself and Beren. "They died before they could raid any camp, so we know not their aim."

"How careless of you. Tell me of Nargothrond: who reigns there?"

"Finrod Felagund."

"Curse him! Bloody handed elf." Beren added.

_Thank you Beren, I really needed that_... I thought.

Gorthaur continued: "Surely you have heard that he is gone, and that Celegorm sits upon his throne?"

"Surely not! For is Orodreth not the heir?" I asked. _Do not let my fears be true..._

"I am most impressed by your knowledge of realms you have not entered. It is most - suspicious."

"Whom do you serve, light or dark? Repeat your vows, orcs of Bauglir - or do you know them so poorly that I must remind you:"

Death to light, to law, to love.

Cursed be Moon and stars above.

May the darkness of the void drown Manwe, Varda, and the sun!

May all in hatred be begun, and all in evil ended be,

drowned in the moaning of the endless sea 1).

_I cannot say that._ None of us answered, and our silence was as deadly as anything we could have said. Too late, Beren muttered "By what right do you hinder Boldog's scouts? You are not our overlord."

Gorthaur laughed softly, and began to sing:

Your illusion shall not hold, against my great revealing power,

Your shapes shall uncovered be, here in this blood-darkened tower,

Uncover and betray,

by the power of dark!

A darkness fell around us, and all we could see through the mirk was the fire of his eyes. I felt not one but both illusions beginning to slip, and I answered:

Yet courage and faith may secrets keep, in the face of horror's power,

Love lead into places dark, breaking the chains of thy dark tower.

As the candle lights the darkness,

Small they seem, yet strong they are.

The darkness seemed to back off for a second, but it would not be for long. I carried on, singing of beauty, of hope, of joy, of freedom and of escape from captivity. _How long can I keep this up? I can feel the power flowing out like water. Sing - that is all that matters now. _

Then he replied.

Fearing betrayal you turn away those who have escaped in truth,

And in your heart you fear the dark where courage ends in empty death,

Dust to dust you all shall be,

While Melkor laughs up on his throne.

And I fought.

But death itself is not an end, though Mandos halls do lie ahead,

And outside time there is the One, who holds the music in his head,

Since he is good how shall we fear,

Thy pitiful song of darkness here?

The One cares not for this marred world, where tears flow into the night,

And the Valar hide themselves away, keep for themselves the only light,

While Eru's children walk in darkness,

They live in blissful happiness.

The One cares much for this marred world - not you nor I know all his plans,

And there shall come a reckoning that pierces the darkness like a lance,

You shall not have the mastery,

While the smallest light remains aflame.

But there has already a reckoning been - the doom of Mandos haunts thy ways,

By the blood spilled in Alqualonde darkened are the Noldor's days,

Guilt or innocence signifies nought,

For the valar hear not thy cries.

Indeed they weave spells of darkness over the sea,

While Teleri weep in bitterness and Noldor cry in agony,

Men worship the darkness,

And the Sindar die forgotten.

The darkness swirled around me - I was so tired, there was an answer but I could not remember it, and while I wavered Gorthaur sang, changing metre, his voice darkening yet more. All light faded save the flame of his eyes, and all sound save his voice, chanting inexorably:

The wind wails, the wolf howls.

The ravens flee,

Ice mutters in the mouths of the Sea.

The captives sad in Angband mourn- 2)

And I saw nothing but the darkness.

* * *

Someone was dragging me along the floor. It hurt, but at the same time it seemed to be happening to someone else. I was then picked up and carried before being dropped a short distance onto a stone floor. I groaned, and tried to sit up. A harsh voice laughed as someone kicked me. "That'll teach you not to try to fight lord Gorthaur. Thinks he is a regular Fingolfin, doesn't he?" I gave up and lay still as they put chains around my wrists and ankles that burned painfully. The other orc laughed, and they fussed about with the chains of the others for a time before climbing back up the ladder, which they hauled up out of the pit up after them. They took the torch with them, leaving us in darkness at the bottom of a twenty foot deep hole.

"Dungalef, are you all right? Can you hear me?" Edrahil asked anxiously.

"I can," I answered. "I'm just exhausted." If he was calling me Dungalef, then perhaps Gorthaur hadn't seen the second layer of illusions. Yes, the illusion must have held, for I was still feeding power into the spell. We lay in the darkness and awaited our fate.

Some unknown time later, Gorthaur arrived, standing at the railing that overlooked the deep pit in which we lay. An orcish guard beside him held a torch. The light was welcome, even if he was not. "You will tell me your names and your errand."

We did not answer.

"Oh, you will in the end, one of you. For those who remain obdurate, my wolves are hungry. You shall be slain one by one until you either tell all you know, or there is but one left alive. That one will be tortured until he reveals everything." He left then, taking the torch with him, and we were alone in the dark again.

A/N:

1) This verse is slightly altered from the original in the Lay of Leithien. A large amount of the question and answer sequence is also paraphrased from the Lay. The original was in verse, and some of the objects referred to do not fit with the more recent versions of the legendarium, since the Lay is older than the Silmarillion and many ideas had not yet reached their final form. This is why I altered it.

2) Direct quote from the Silmarillion. The other verses are my own.

3) I apologize for the excessive spaces within the poetry. For some reason, this site seems to have changed it and I cannot get it to single space properly. If anyone knows how to fix this... do let me know.


	7. A Cause Without a Rebel

Chapter seven: A Cause Without a Rebel

Curufin and Celegorm ruled Nargothrond in fact while I was lord in name. I went through the motions of running the kingdom. They went out hunting frequently. It eased my mind to get them out of the city for a while, so I had no quarrel with their going. If my luck was very great, perhaps one of them would have a fall and break his neck. But fate was not so kind.

One day they came back with a most unexpected guest. Princess Luthien of Doriath. They did not see fit to inform me of her arrival, so that it was three days later when I learned of it from Gwindor, whose father Guilin had become deep in the councils of the new lords of Nargothrond. However, it appeared Guilin had now seen things that he disliked, which he just happened to repeat in his son's presence. Guilin was far too canny to do anything of the sort unintentionally.

I bullied the guards into letting me see her. I might have little power, but they dared not deny me to my face without the support of their lords. What she had to say froze my blood.

"Beren, Finrod and their companions have been imprisoned in the Tol-in-Gaurhoth for over a month. I have been trying to get help for them ever since, but it proved impossible in Doriath and I ended up having to escape after my father imprisoned me at the top of Hirilorn. I've been trying to get to see you ever since I arrived here, but Celegorm and Curufin kept telling me that you were unavailable, or busy, or visiting friends in some unspecified location, and the guards that they say are for my protection will not let me leave these rooms. Will you help? They have your uncle and your King too, not Beren only."

"Are they still alive?" I asked.

"Beren is. He's frightened and in pain, but he is not dead. I would know if he were dead. Finrod... I do not know, but they would not kill him if they know who he is. He would make far too valuable a prisoner. I take it Gorthaur's minions have not come to taunt you over Finrod's captivity, then?"

"I knew nothing of this until you spoke. Nothing! I presume you told Celegorm and Curufin of this?"

"It was practically the first thing I told them. You mean they didn't tell you? They have known nearly a week!"

I nodded.

Luthien swallowed. "You must do something," she insisted. "You are the regent with Finrod gone."

I looked away. The fact was, I wasn't sure what I could do. The last time I faced Gorthaur with an army, I lost badly. The nightmares had never entirely gone away. To face him again... I could not do it. Even without Curufin and and Celegorm's certain hindrance such an action would be hopeless. I could not ask my people to die for nothing. Not that they'd follow me anyway.

"I do not know that it is possible. I must speak to the council, now that I know what is going on."

"There must be a way somehow! He is your uncle, surely you cannot intend to leave him there?"

"I will do what I can," I answered. _However little that may be..._

She looked back, and I could see the hope in her eyes dying.

"Do you then desire a throne so badly you will let your uncle, whom I had always been told you loved dearly, die in prison? I had not thought such of you!"

"How dare you! You have not the faintest idea of what you've walked into, have you?" Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden, and I wiped angrily at them. "I may be lord in name but I have no power. I can barely keep my daughter safe from Celegorm's grasping hands! Why do you think Finrod went off on this mad quest with so few in the first place? It was not by choice-"

At that moment, Curufin stepped into the room. "Princess Luthien," he said, bowing. "Prince Orodreth. How good to see you." He frowned at me. "I thought you were meeting with the scouts."

"You forget. I did so yesterday. But since you so obviously do not wish me here, I take my leave." I turned and left.

I went home, but stopped only long enough to collect my climbing equipment. Meril saw my face, but said only "When you return, we need to talk."

I went to a place in the caves I knew. I had climbed there many a time before, when I did not have time to leave the city, or when the weather was bad. I climbed, rapelled down, and climbed again. Finally some of the tension drained out of me. I returned home, not really wanting to talk with Meril, but calm enough that I probably wouldn't dissolve into uselessness. Luthien was right, I had to at least try to do something. It probably wouldn't work but the alternative was unthinkable.

Meril saw me coming and opened the door as I arrived. "Whatever is the matter?" She asked after I was safely inside.

"Finrod is a prisoner in the Tol-in-Guarhoth." Meril's eyes widened in horror, but she gestured to me to keep speaking. "If he is still alive. Beren is still alive, but Luthien cannot tell if Finrod is. The Feanorions are keeping her prisoner in all but name, and did not inform me about either her presence or Finrod's fate though they knew both full well. What am I going to do, Meril? They aren't going to lift a hand to rescue him, and I can't face Gorthaur without them even if I were by some miracle to get our people to follow me. Curse them, and Finrod's implacable oath! And their oath as well while we're at it, and Beren's oath and Thingol's!"

"Orodreth, I don't think that is necessary. All of them except the Feanorions are in quite enough trouble already."

"You know I didn't mean it that way, dear."

"I just want you to calm down," Meril replied. "You don't have to make a decision immediately, and panicking is not going to help your uncle."

"I want to help them," I replied. "The trouble is, it is not in my power to get them out. Certainly I could make an effort, but all it will do is get people killed. The last time I went up against Gorthaur I lost badly. Yes, yes we got out, but that was only because Gorthaur wanted the tower rather than our deaths. I should have used the spell of unmaking on the tower and I knew it even then, but I could not find the strength of will to make it function amidst the nightmare hallucinations. If I face Gorthaur again I am going to lose my mind and accomplish nothing whatever save to destroy Nargothrond and its people. Ultimately Finrod and the others are only twelve people. Twelve people or an entire kingdom... at least they are adults who walked knowingly into their fate. We can't do anything."

I stopped pacing, and sat down. "The trouble is, if it were me in that dungeon and him sitting here he would not sit here and do nothing. He would find a way to help me, or would at least try. For that matter, that is how his own oath to Barahir happened. He was trying to reach Angrod and Aegnor. Of course, that didn't work and look where we are now... but there must be some way to make it work!" I got up again and resumed pacing.

"We know the layout of the tower; if we could just get a small group inside without Gorthaur's notice we could probably get Finrod and the others out. The problem is, we'd have to find people as insane as the ones who left with Finrod in the first place, and get them past Gorthaur. Finrod didn't get past Gorthaur. How many more people must die before we realize we can't get them out of this?"

"What about Luthien?" Meril asked. "Thingol is not going to take his daughter's captivity well."

"I don't know what I'm going to do about that. They have no right to confine her, it is blatantly unlawful, but I can't make them do anything. You are right; King Elu Thingol is going to explode when he finds out about this, and he is probably going to blame me. Although he might actually thank us for preventing her running after Beren - he imprisoned her to prevent her chasing after him, after all."

"Thingol imprisoned his own daughter?" said Meril in astonishment.

"Yes, really. She escaped against his will, from what she told me. If I knew that was the only reason Celegorm and Curufin were holding her..."

"You need to tell the people what is happening. You may not be able to do much about the situation, but you have the responsibility to let them know what is going on."

I blinked." You are right. They definitely need to know this. I'll have to call the council together." The enormity of what that entailed struck me. I'd never be able to stand up to the Feanorions without allies. It would also be much better if we could get Luthien to be present. Quite what I'd do once the council had been told was an open question also. The situation was likely to be quite chaotic and I did not handle chaos well. _Oh no..._

"Why don't you to speak to Elris, Thorontir, and Moriel? I know they don't like what's been happening and they will want to help Finrod."

"Finrod told me not to start another kinslaying - but I need to speak to Thorontir anyway about the progress of the sewer extensions. I shall speak to him..." I looked down and realized I was still in my climbing gear, "after it is no longer obvious that I have been climbing the walls. When did Moriel get here?"

"I spoke to her last night. She said she had been trying to get hold of you for the past three days to talk about the impact of the new secrecy laws."

"Oh. I guess I have been rather hard to speak to lately."

"Water across the Ford. Go have a bath, and talk to Thorontir." Meril gave me a gentle push towards the bathing chamber.


	8. You May Call Me Coward

You May Call Me Coward...

Some three hours after my talk with Meril Thorontir, Moriel and I were seated around Thorontir's dining table discussing the situation. There came a knock the door. Elris entered, and with him was Celebrimbor. We stopped talking. Why in Arda had Elris brought Curufin's son?

Celebrimbor met my eyes defiantly and announced "I want to make it completely clear that I have nothing to do with Curufin and Celegorm's actions in keeping Luthien prisoner and trying to convince her to marry Celegorm, or with their plan to leave Felagund to die and usurp the throne! They have left the path of honor and I want no part of their actions."

I blinked. "I'm glad to hear it. Celegorm is trying to persuade Luthien to marry him?"

"Yes. He's infatuated with her, and he also wishes to increase his power by allying with Thingol."

"Exactly how does he think that forcing Luthien into marriage will help him?" I asked. "Elu Thingol's reaction to Beren was bad enough; I dread to think how he will react to Celegorm's behaviour."

"I don't think he's thinking clearly. He thinks he can persuade her to fall in love with him, when it is blatantly obvious that she will have Beren or nobody. What I don't understand is why my father is going along with this. He normally has more sense!"

"I don't like it," Thorontir said. "Thingol could potentially start a war over this. We could be in as much danger from him as from the Feanorions."

"There is another danger here we have avoided mentioning," Moriel added. What if one or more of Finrod's party breaks? We need to get them out."

"Finrod won't break," Elris said.

"One of the others might, and you never know if somebody is going to break until they do. Morgoth's people have ways and means and Gorthaur is notoriously inventive." Moriel grimaced, and rubbed absently at her wrists.

"I would go and get them if I could only figure a way to do it that would actually work. However, I cannot see one that doesn't involve starting a war with the Feanorions," I said.

In the end we decided to present the situation at the council meeting already planned for late tomorrow, and spent most of the night discussing tactics. I began to hope that we might actually be able to rescue Finrod without a kinslaying, and retrieve Luthien from Celegorm's clutches. Why had I felt so alone before?

* * *

The meeting was utter chaos almost from the moment I announced Finrod's captivity. Everybody was try to talk at once and it first it seemed that no two people agreed with anyone else. After the first minute, however, it rapidly became obvious that there was going to be two main groups, one centered around Thorontir and myself, and the other centered around the Feanorions. I grabbed the gavel in front of me and slammed it down on the table. Silence fell. I was shaking with tension, but I spoke as we had planned:

"I will hear everyone's suggestions, but not simultaneously. Lord Thorontir, you may speak first."

"I move that we rescue the king. A large assault force - not to attack Minas Tirith but merely to appear to threaten it, while a small group goes into the tunnels. Prince Orodreth and I have already found at least some of the volunteers who would be needed for such a group."

Arnil spoke next. "We cannot rescue them. The people have already spoken against going to war, and without the large force your plan has no shadow of a chance of working. All it does is provide Gorthaur with more people to torture and increase the chance of him finding all of us. If you do send a large force having by some miracle manage to persuade people to follow you, then his spies will follow us home and he will find us."

"Gorthaur may not know yet know who he has caught," said Curufin. "If I were Finrod, I would have gone disguised. If you bring the entire Nargothrond army with banners waving, Gorthaur is going to realize exactly whom he has, and guard him so close that you will never rescue him. Indeed, my cousin has more chance of survival without any rescue attempt being made. I still remember what my brother was like when they brought him back from Angband - having Morgoth's personal attention is far worse than simply being captive. We must not bring that fate on him if he has any chance of escaping it."

"They haven't a hope of escape," said Thorontir. "If you leave him there, he is dead or worse. And it's your fault he's there in the first place."

"It is not my brother's fault." Celegorm retorted. "We told him not to go on this quest; we told him it was madness - you all heard us! You agreed with us!"

"Only because you threatened us with kinslaying," said Thorontir. "I've been thinking about that, and I don't think we should give in merely because we are afraid that you will harm us. How many times are we going to end up doing this and when do we stop? When the Doriathrin army arrives at our door to demand Luthien's return? When they start to kill?"

"Lord Thorontir, I am hurt by your imputation," said Curufin. To my astonishment, he actually managed to look hurt. "We are bound by our oath just as Finrod is by his, but we have never threatened you and yours. As for Luthien, she is here for her own protection after we found her wandering alone and distraught in the forest without so much as a dagger for her own protection. I fear her mind is unstable, and it would be murder on our part to set her loose."

"And I quote: 'Do you want another Alqualonde?' That sounded like a direct threat to me. I feared for my baby daughter." The shouting began again. I looked around me: Finrod's allies appeared to be fewer than the Feanorian group, and more numerous than either were those who remained silent. The argument was getting quite heated: Celegorm had gone red in the face, and Celebrimbor had gone white-faced and silent after his father glared in his direction. Finally they paused.

"Perhaps we could leave out the personal slurs and consider how we are to rescue the king?" suggested Guilin.

"We should vote on whether to try to rescue him. Shouting will get us nowhere, and none of us is changing our minds," Arnil added.

We would lose that vote, I could tell. Give up now, and we would avoid a kinslaying. Continue, and who knew what would happen.

We lost the vote. Four yeas: myself, Thorontir, and two unknowns. Six nays and ten abstentions. I should have stopped then, but I could not and the bitter words poured out of me anyway. "Oaths of fealty broken once, broken twice. We are reduced to voting upon our King's life - and voting for his death because we are too afraid to follow where he leads. Yet you call me coward?" My voice broke, and I became aware that I was dripping tears onto the table. "I am ashamed to know you."

The others looked away, embarrassed, either by my tears or by my words, I knew not which.

"I wish we could rescue him, but I don't think it's possible. After all, if he has been there a month he may well be dead by now." lady Tariel said sadly. I looked at her, and found no words to say.

* * *

The next weeks were some of the worst I have ever known. Having given up on the only thing of real importance right now, I could not even pretend interest in the laying of sewers or the heating requirements of the great hall. Council and the government continued without me, and I spent most of my time sleeping or listlessly trying to read.

Other people, however, did not seem to find the situation so intolerable. There was the usual festival at the equinox. The torches flared, the people sang, and there was music and feasting in the halls. I came, one of the few public appearances I made at that time, but I took no joy in it and retired early, leaving Celegorm to preside over the proceedings. He at least appeared to be enjoying himself. Murderer. It was hard to believe that I had ever liked or trusted him. How could I have been so blind? But there was nothing I could do.

Then Luthien escaped. The Feanorions absolutely would not believe that I had had nothing to do with it, and they entered my house and asked me questions until Meril fetched four of the city guards, who threatened them with physical harm if they did not remove themselves and apologize immediately. They had apparently forgotten that I was at least by law the lord of the city. They made the bare minimum of an apology and left. I then discovered that they had arrested both Thorontir and Moriel on suspicion of involvement. However, under fire from me, the council and a crowd of angry citizens, Celegorm and Curufin released them after less than a day, and the situation calmed down. We waited, not knowing what would happen next.

Beneath the surface, however the tension had risen near to the breaking point. I was forced to imprison over thirty people for politically-related brawling over the next few weeks, and the prison guards complained that they had been forced to separate the Feanorian supporters from the others lest the brawling continue within the prison walls, and that they were running out of space. I feared to do anything lest the situation explode entirely. So, apparently, did the Feanorions, for they did not argue with me on this.

A letter came to me from Elu Thingol, which included a letter that Celegorm and Curufin had sent to him informing him that Celegorm would be marrying Luthien whether he willed it or not, that Felagund was dead, and that they were the lords of Nargothrond. They didn't bother to mention that I lived or was officially ruling. Thingol also threatened war against Nargothrond if Celegorm attempted to wed his daughter by force, or imprisoned her there. Introducing this spark into the current atmosphere seemed like a poor idea, so apart from informing Thingol that his daughter was no longer in Nargothrond I kept silent for the present.

A/N: I am using Feanorions to mean "sons of Feanor" and "Feanorians" to mean people of and supporters of Feanor and his sons and grandson. I hope this seems reasonable to everyone.

I've always felt sorry for Orodreth in this situation. He really doesn't handle it well. Still, there might have been worse outcomes. Civil war, for example. Imagine Angrod in this situation, with his temper... or Turgon, for that matter. Orodreth could have done worse.


	9. To Keep an Oath

Chapter nine: To Keep an Oath

A/N: This chapter is extremely dark and includes a character death.

The wolf had been and gone ten times now. Beren and I alone were left. Neither of us had any hope of rescue, for how could any even know where we were?

Beren spoke in a whisper. It took me a moment to come out of the dark dream in which I wandered and pay attention to his words. "Could you repeat that?" I asked.

He did so: "This is madness. Why not tell? It is little loss if I die, and it is insane for you to die for my sake - you have already done far more than ever your oath required, and I release you from it."

"No! If Gorthaur ever were to find out who we were, our fate would be worse yet. Remember Gorlim the Unhappy! The servants of Morgoth do not keep their word unless it suits them. You he would kill, probably after great torments given your history with him, and as for me - I know too much, and would make far too valuable a hostage against my people even if he never managed to get what I know out of me."

From overhead, the slow mocking laughter came. "So true the words you speak. How brave, and how completely useless. You do realize you have just told me exactly who you are - Beren son of Barahir and Finrod Felagund king of Nargothrond. I didn't even make any promises I would now have to break!" He muttered an incantation I couldn't quite catch, and the last of my protective illusion vanished. Presumably he could see us despite the dark, for he laughed again. "Clever, clever, hiding the illusion like that. You had a partner who held it when you collapsed at my feet, didn't you?"

I did not answer.

"However, I think I will pass on torturing Beren. Humans don't live long enough to be interesting unless they are in decent condition to start with. You, on the other hand... I will take your suggestions under advisement." Quiet footsteps receded as he walked away from the high railing overhead.

We lay in the dark and waited. Neither of us spoke, as there seemed nothing to say. All was quiet for once - or perhaps my mind was too damaged to hear the pain of others any longer. A mercy, if so.

I forced myself to think about the wolf that would soon be coming. While the chains that bound me possessed magical strength, they might not prove unbreakable if enough magical and physical force was brought to bear on them. Beren would never be able to break them, but I might be able to. Doing so might kill me, even if the fight with the wolf did not. Regardless of Beren's words, it would be better that I died than that he did. I did not know his fate, but it was not to die here. As for my own fate, what I foresaw years ago had come to pass and I would not leave this place alive. In any case, my oath still stood whether he admitted it or not. I might as well use my death to save his life.

I gathered what power to myself I could. It was little enough, but it must serve. I wove it into my body to increase my strength and into the metal of the chains where they joined the wall. I pulled myself up from the floor into a crouch, and waited for the wolf. After an unknown time I could hear a faint tapping of claws on stone far overhead. It was coming. There was a faint thud as it landed a few feet in front of me, probably facing Beren, for I could see the light of only one eye.

"_Cris_!" I cried, releasing the pent up power and leaping forwards against the chains that bound me to the wall. The chains held, then snapped. I fell more than leapt forward, landing half on top of the wolf's back. The wolf stumbled and fell. I fought blindly: kicking, punching, biting or otherwise injuring whatever I could reach, but the wolf threw me off and I landed against the wall. It came for me, but I saw its eyes and and managed to grab it by the throat, twisting one of my snapped chains around its neck. It reared backwards, trying to free itself, and we both fell over. I landed on top of the wolf, but it was stronger than I, and I quickly ended up underneath where it clawed my chest and bit my face. However, my hands had become entangled in the chains around the wolf's neck, tightening them further. It could not breathe, and its struggles became weaker. Finally, the wolf stopped moving. I lay still, unable to free myself from the entangled chains.

As the urgency of the fight drained away, I began to feel pain. Chest, hands, wrists, my face, a leg - all burned with pain. I tried to reach inside for the power to heal myself, but there was nothing left. I was dying.

I lay there for a time and drifted, until I heard Beren's frantic voice. _I should really answer him. _"I go now to my long rest in the timeless halls beyond the seas and the mountains of Aman," I said, gasping slightly. I couldn't seem to get enough air. I continued: "it will be long ere I am seen among the noldor again." I struggled for breath again_. Mandos. I will be going there now. But Beren is human_."It may be that we shall not meet a second time in death or life, for the fates of our kindreds are apart." _Is there anything else I need to say? I cannot think of anything, except..._ "Farewell!" 1)

The pain grew more distant, and I slept.

1) Silmarillion quotes. I broke them up instead of making them one longer monologue because I don't think Finrod would have been terribly eloquent at that point. I suspect that Daeron, who officially wrote the _Lay of Leithian_, was using poetic licence.


	10. The Price of Peace

Chapter ten: The Price of Peace

It was Gwindor who brought me the news, in the person of three very ragged elves who had been apprehended at the northern border. They insisted that they had been prisoners in the Tol-in-Guarhoth until recently.

"And you are free? How did this happen?" I asked. _Surely Luthien and Huan and could not have managed to free them? Could they? And Finrod... Perhaps he is free too!_

"It was Luthien and the Hound of Valinor who freed us. The tower of Minas Tirith is destroyed, and the dungeons of the tol-in-Gaurhoth broken open. All the prisoners who were there are now free, and Gorthaur the Cruel has been put to flight - we think he went to Tar-nu-Fuin. His werewolves too have fled to the four winds."

"What of King Finrod Felagund?" I asked, afraid to hope.

"He is dead," the refugee answered. "Luthien came too late, by little more than an hour. He fell fighting a werewolf that was intended to kill Beren. He slew the wolf with his bare hands, after breaking chains that all had thought to be unbreakable. I don't know how he did it; he had been in the dungeon for months. He should have been too weak to break rope, let alone chains infused with dark sorcery. But his wounds were mortal, and he died. I know this for truth, for I helped bury him."

_He is dead. And Luthien came too late by an hour. One hour! If I had aided her, my uncle would still live._ I bowed my head. _I am a coward; we are all cowards here. The price we have paid for our peace is too high._

* * *

I set the refugees free to go whither they would in Nargothrond, and told them to tell the tale. They told it far and wide, they and the others who followed them. I also passed Curufin and Celegorm's letter around. People began to murmer, and then to cry out in anger against Celegorm and Curufin.

Eventually, I called a meeting in the great hall where they had defied Finrod and turned against him. Curufin and Celegorm were summoned, and arrived escorted by guards. The people jeered at them, and many cried out for their deaths. I could feel the tension in the hall, for though even their own people were angry they would be unlikely to accept the the death of their lords peacefully. And so, for the sake of peace I made yet another decision that burned my heart. "King Finrod Felagund's blood lies upon your hands, and you are also guilty of the unlawful confinement of Luthien the princess of Doriath." Cheers and angry shouts greeted my words. "However, I will not greet the slaying of kin by becoming a kinslayer in my turn for I have no wish to bind the doom of Mandos closer upon us. You are no longer welcome in Nargothrond, and you shall have neither bread nor rest in this realm. Between the house of Finarfin and the house of Feanor there lies a life and little friendship will any of them find from me or my kin."

Thus it came to pass that the Feanorions were banished from the realm and I took up my rule in truth. But my heart was bitter within me, and the silver crown and Nauglamir seemed to burn my hands, although the only marks were in my mind.


	11. Echoes to the End of Time

Afterword: Echoes to the End of Time

Thus ends this tale in sadness, yet the quest of the Silmarils went on, and beyond hope came to fulfillment in both sorrow and joy. A Silmaril came into Thingol's hands; and Beren and Luthien returned from Mandos and had a child whom they named Dior. Finrod was reembodied in Valinor, and reunited with his parents, as well as with his love Amarie.

Both Orodreth and Thingol provided little assistance during the Nirnaith Arnoediad, as it was organized by Maedhros, whom they mistrusted as a son of Feanor. The field was lost, and many of the free realms of elves and men were overthrown. The surviving realms were destroyed by Morgoth one by one, including Nargothrond. The exception was Doriath. Doriath was sacked twice: first by the dwarves and then by the Feanorians, both seeking possession of the Silmaril. The Havens of Sirion where Princess Elwing, Luthien and Beren's granddaughter, had fled with the Silmaril were also attacked by the sons of Feanor. Here Elwing threw herself into the sea, but was turned into a white bird by the Vala Ulmo and flew to Earendil who was seeking Valinor.

By the power of the Silmaril, Earendil reached Valinor, where the Valar heard his plea and sent an army which destroyed Morgoth's armies, captured him, and sank Beleriand beneath the waves. The Noldor were forgiven, Numenor was founded and a great threat to the world was ended.

When Sauron rose as a dark lord in place of Morgoth, the descendants of Beren and Luthien were instrumental in his defeat, and it has been foretold that their line shall not die until the world itself be ended.

* * *

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everybody who reviewed, both "I like this!" reviews and constructive criticism that helped improve the story.

I have a couple of ideas for possible stories related to this one some of you might be interested in. One is an exploration of events during the preparation for the War of Wrath and Finrod's return from Mandos. It would be a fairly quiet story, probably containing lots of misunderstandings getting sorted out and people talking about ethics, the fate of the world, the best way to kill an orc or cooperate with the Sindar, and why it is that the newly returned have rather erratic memories. It is pretty lighthearted, and is humorous in places.

Story number two is the tale of what might have happened if Luthien had arrived two hours earlier and both Beren and Finrod had come out of the Tol-in-Guarhoth alive. I have always wondered what would have happened. Potential effects on events such as the Nirnaith Arnoediad or Turin's sojourn in Nargothrond are interesting, to say the least. The effects on Finrod of his imprisonment and the events in Nargothrond might also be interesting, if not particularly happy.

Any suggestions as to which, if either, you would rather see me write?


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